


Show Us the Sky

by Pangea



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragon Riders, M/M, birthday!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pangea/pseuds/Pangea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik has been away on duty for five months, protecting the realm as a dragon rider.  Now he's finally on leave and he has a special present for Charles, who waits for him back in their home village.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Us the Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maimo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maimo/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MIMO! <3

The early morning air is cold and crisp, leading Charles to believe that he would be shivering if it weren’t for the fact that he’s practically sweating as he clambers up the smooth sandstone rocks, scrabbling to find hand- and foot-holds as he pulls himself up ledge by ledge.  His breath steams in the air as he pants, and when he finally pulls himself up and over onto the first flat surface he’s encountered in over an hour, he crawls forward and then collapses, taking a moment to rest.

He hasn’t made this climb in over five months, he thinks ruefully when he sits up after a few moments, and it definitely shows.  In all honesty he really doesn’t have to make the climb at all, but he wants to be there, at the top and waiting, this time.  He’s too excited to sit waiting at home in the tiny village far below at the foot of the mountain.

Charles has a spectacular view of the valley, lush and green even though the light of the morning sun has yet to reach it over the tall range of mountains that act as guardians to the peaceful basin, the sky a wash of pink and orange.  Charles loves his valley home, but lately he’s been restless, itching to see what lies beyond the safety of the mountain barrier.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and then he pushes himself back up to his feet, reveling a little in the soreness in his limbs—it feels good, in a way—before starting up the narrow path that will lead him the rest of the way up.

He’s soon panting again, the air growing warmer and warmer as the sun continues its ascent, coming more into view.  It’s a clear day, with only a smattering of white, fluffy clouds dotting the sky.  Charles climbs up the steep path, slipping between large boulders and picking his way up scree slopes carefully, making his way up higher and higher.  He’s going to be right on time, and the thought makes him grin even as he nearly slips on a loose rock.

Finally, after what seems like forever, Charles skirts sideways through a narrow ravine, the sheer rock walls towering high above him, only a thin patch of sky visible overhead, and then he’s stepping out onto a wide ledge of a cliff on the other side of the mountain that faces away from the valley, giving him a panoramic view of the world beyond.

He stands alone on the edge for a moment, feeling very small as he looks out across the vast expanse.  The terrain is rugged and wild, jagged peaks extending out in all directions as far as Charles can see, even though he strains his eyes—he’s heard tales of a great ocean beyond the mountains, with water stretching even further into oblivion, reaching maybe even the other side of the _world_ , and one day he longs to see it for himself.

The sound of heavy wing beats suddenly pulls him from his thoughts, and he turns around quickly with a smile, craning his neck to look up at the sky.

A dragon descends in a lazy swoop, vast, leathery wings beating back and forth powerfully as the beast drops down in a controlled hover, the great gusts of wind from the downdraft blowing Charles’ hair back for a wild moment of turbulence, making him laugh in delight.  The rock trembles as the dragon touches down, spreading its wings wide for a moment before folding them neatly across its broad back.

The dragon has deep purple scales that glitter brilliantly in the sunlight, and for a moment Charles can’t look directly at them as his vision adjusts.  The dragon extends his long, elegant neck down and forward, bringing his large head down to Charles’ level, peering at him intently with deeply intelligent eyes.  Charles is rooted to the spot for a moment, gazing back into the dragon’s eyes—they are the eyes of a timeless, ancient soul that seem to look right through him, searing, and lay him completely bare—and then he’s aware of a deep thrumming sound that vibrates through his bones as the dragon pushes his nose forward to rub against Charles’ chest.

“Hello, Mags,” Charles says with another laugh, bringing his hands up to scratch at the dragon’s rough skin beneath his jaw, grinning when the cat-like eyes slip shut in apparent bliss, “I’ve missed you.”

The dragon huffs out a long breath, nostrils flaring wide for a moment and Charles laugh-coughs at the small stream of smoke that puffs across his face.  In his mind, Charles catches the faintest flicker of color, orange and red swirling together for a moment before fading.

“He says he missed you too,” comes a voice, sounding tired but amused, and Charles looks up in time to watch a tall, trim man slide down from the thick leather saddle on the dragon’s back, avoiding the great folded wings by batting them out of the way, “move it, Magneto—and I can vouch for him, he wouldn’t _shut up_ about you the entire way here.”

Charles smiles, his heart leaping.  “Erik,” he says, his voice almost too thick with emotion, “I’ve missed _you_ , so much—”

“Hey,” Erik says, coming over and pushing Magneto’s head to the side so he can reach for Charles.  Magneto huffs out another breath, shaking his head with a low, rumbling growl that makes Erik roll his eyes, but then he’s focused on Charles.  “Hi.  It’s been awhile.  _I_ missed you.”

Charles laughs, and then throws himself into the dragon rider’s arms, standing up on tiptoes to kiss him.  Erik is warm and solid against his chest, and Charles makes a pleased sound when he’s scooped up by strong arms, and wraps his legs around a slender waist and clinging tightly as they kiss, long and sweet.  Beside them Magneto is thrumming again, and a sudden burst of bright colors blooms in Charles’ mind, radiating contentment.

“What’d he say?” Charles asks when he and Erik draw apart for breath, resting their foreheads against one another.  He keeps his arms wrapped around the dragon rider’s shoulders, holding himself flush against Erik’s front.

“He’s being obnoxious,” Erik says, glancing over at the dragon in what could be taken as annoyance if Charles didn’t know better.

Magneto _chuckles_ —there’s no other word for it; and Charles finds himself smiling along with the dragon’s amusement because Magneto is practically projecting it, more colors swirling together in Charles’ mind.  Charles can only see Magneto’s speech as brilliant colors, but it is Erik who can hear the dragon’s true voice—bound together as they are, by mind and blood.

“Come on, tell me,” Charles wheedles, shifting one of his arms so he can bring a hand up to touch Erik’s face.  The dragon rider has been away on duty for five months, and it feels so good to be back in his arms, touching him for real instead of only in dreams.

Erik looks back at him, his gaze softening.  “He said that I’m finally happy again.”  He pauses, leaning into Charles’ hand.  “He’s right.  I am.”

Charles kisses him again, and thinks that if he were a dragon he’d be projecting his love loud enough for the entire valley to hear.  He gives a light gasp when Erik nips at his bottom lip, and then moans into Erik’s mouth when the dragon rider slips his tongue past his parted lips, opening them a little further to give Erik full access, their tongues sliding together slowly, warm and slick.

Charles is flushed and panting the next time they break apart, his lips wet.  “How long are you on leave this time?” he asks breathlessly, half-dreading the answer but still wanting to know how much time they can steal together this shift.  Erik’s schedule fluctuates; sometimes he’s home for three weeks, other times he’s home for six months.

The same goes for how long he is gone.

“It doesn’t matter,” Erik answers, somewhat cryptically, his eyes glued to Charles’ lips, “I want to show you something.”

“What is it?” Charles asks, even though he shivers a little when Erik adjusts his grip, causing their bodies to shift against each other.

“Come with me.”  Erik carries him over to Magneto’s side, lifting a booted foot to nudge the dragon’s scales.  “Lift, Mags.”

Magneto chuffs, and then unfolds his wings, spreading them wide and lifting them up out of the way.

“Are you sure?” Charles asks uncertainly, eyes slightly wide.  To ride a dragon…

“Climb, Charles.”  Erik boosts Charles up and Charles grasps onto the thick leather strap of Magneto’s saddle, scrambling up the dragon’s side as lightly as he can and climbing onto the heavy-duty saddle nestled in front of his wing blades.  Sitting on top of the dragon, feeling Magneto’s spine rise and fall with every breath, makes Charles feel very small and delicate compared to the great beast.

“Of course you don’t throw _him_ off,” Erik mutters as he climbs up onto the saddle as well, less carefully than Charles had done, “this is blatant favoritism, you big lizard—”

Magneto snorts, giving a shake, and Charles grips the edges of the saddle tightly, laughing a little nervously.  He knows dragons are very picky about who they allow on their backs, their rider aside.  “If he really doesn’t want me to—”

“Are you kidding?” Erik asks as he swings a leg over Magneto’s back and settles into place in front of Charles, looking back over his shoulder at the smaller man.  “He loves you.  More than he does me, I think.”

Charles smiles, reaching down to stroke the dragon’s scales.  They’re warm to his touch, as if a fire burns just beneath them.  “Oh I doubt that,” he answers, amused, “they say there’s no bond greater than that between a dragon and his rider.”

Erik snorts but doesn’t argue against it, busying himself with strapping their legs down onto the saddle, and Charles doesn’t miss how he gives Magneto’s neck a fond, gentle stroke.  Beneath them Magneto vibrates with a long, continuous thrum, his tail swishing slowly back and forth idly as he waits, wings still proudly spread.  Charles sees blues and greens forming intricate patterns like a kaleidoscope; Erik murmurs something in answer, making the dragon give a low rumble.

“This feel tight enough?” Erik asks, pulling on the last strap.

Charles nods.  “I think so.”  He’s feeling a little nervous now—he trusts Erik and Magneto unreservedly, but he’s also never _flown_ before.  It’s both exciting and petrifying to be sitting up on the dragon’s back, waiting for Magneto to take off.

“Hold on, Charles.”  Erik reaches back to pull Charles’ arms up around him and Charles gladly latches onto him, hugging him from behind and pulling his chest flat against Erik’s back.  Erik gives a small laugh and Charles feels him vibrate pleasantly with the sound, much like the dragon beneath them.  “Ready?”

Charles nods.  “Yes.  I think.”

Erik turns his head slightly so Charles can see his smirk.  “Show us the sky, Mags.”

Magneto chuckles again, and then dives forward off the cliff.

Charles gives a yell that’s half terror, half exhilaration as they plunge down through empty air, and it feels as if his stomach has climbed his way up into his throat and oh god they’re going to _die_ —

Magneto pumps his wings once, twice, and then suddenly catches a rising updraft of hot air, sending them soaring upwards towards the clouds so fast that Charles feels dizzy for a moment, the pressure of air in his lungs so great that for a moment he can’t breathe at all, and then they’re leveling out, Magneto flapping his wings lazily as he glides.

“Ease up a little, Charles,” Erik calls back over the noise of the wind, sounding a little strained but no less amused, and Charles realizes that he’s practically crushing the dragon rider and quickly loosens his grip, slightly embarrassed.  “That’s better.  You alright?”

Charles nods, and then remembers that the dragon rider can’t see him.  “Yes, I’m fine,” he says into Erik’s ear, and then adds fervently, “Erik, this is incredible!”

The sound of Erik’s laugh drifts back.  “It is,” he calls in agreement, somehow sounding both smug and fond, “it truly is.”

Charles rests against Erik’s warm, solid back, holding onto the dragon rider firmly as they fly.  Magneto’s body movements beneath them take a few minutes to get used to, but once Charles gets the hang of it he finds the ride rather soothing despite the wind whipping at his hair and clothes.  They’re soaring so high that the mountain peaks below are reduced to hills, and Charles gives a start when they’re suddenly flying through a cloud, beads of water misting gently across his face.  He laughs in delight as they rise above the cloud in a burst of rainbows, light reflecting brilliantly from the sun, to which Magneto adds, streaming a symphony of color through Charles’ mind.

The dragon does a wide, lazy loop, and Charles gasps as the world tilts wildly for a moment—they’re _upside down_ —before they level out again, coasting above the fluffy clouds by mere inches.  Magneto trails a claw through the thick mist, his wings scattering the clouds with every beat, leaving behind a strange trail of far-flung whiteness.

They fly for an hour, no doubt covering more ground than Charles has ever traveled before in his life, but too soon, it seems, Magneto is dipping back down below the clouds and spiraling down towards the mountains in wide circles, banking his wings gradually.  Charles can feel the dragon’s muscles shifting beneath them, and although Erik is primarily silent, he can tell that the dragon rider is communicating with his dragon thought-to-thought, working together as one.  A dragon rider is not the master of his dragon—a dragon is not a horse to be broken and trained—but rather he is the dragon’s companion; they are partners, bound together until death.

Charles knows that Erik and Magneto have been together since Magneto was a hatchling, having chosen Erik shortly after emerging from the broken shell of his egg.  He can’t begin to fathom the depth of the bond they share, and for a split second he is achingly jealous but quickly passes it off.  Even with the bond the dragon rider shares with Magneto, Charles still has enough of Erik to still call him his own, and with that knowledge he doesn’t need to be envious.

This is what he tells himself, in hopes that repetition will make it true.

Magneto alights on the edge of yet another cliff, setting down gracefully.  Charles stays locked in place for a moment, a little stiff and his ears ringing at the sudden relative silence now that the air isn’t whipping constantly by.

Erik gently eases out of his grip, unbuckling their legs from the saddle and sliding down to the ground, his movements practiced.  He turns back to Charles, holding up his arms.  “Come on down.  You can slide like I did, and I’ll catch you.  Steady, Mags.”

The dragon snorts with a twist of purple, and Charles laughs.  “I don’t think he needed reminding,” he jokes as he carefully situates himself on the saddle; his movements are still a little stiff.  He manages to get his one leg up and over the dragon’s back, sitting sidesaddle for a moment before he pushes off and slides down into Erik’s arms.

“There you are,” Erik says when he catches Charles, his hands large and still warm despite their flight, and he spins them around once before setting Charles down deftly, pressing a small kiss to the corner of Charles’ mouth.

Charles smiles, keeping his grip on the front of Erik’s thick tunic so that their bodies remain pressed flush against each other.  “That was amazing,” he says, looking up at him, “thank you.”

Magneto snaps his teeth, lowering his head to nose at Charles’ shoulder pointedly, yellows and oranges mixing with greens.

Erik rolls his eyes, shoving at the dragon with one hand.  “Yes, all credit goes to you, now knock it off.”

Charles laughs, reaching over to stroke the dragon’s snout gently.  “Thank you, Mags, you are magnificent.”

“Now you’re just feeding his ego,” Erik groans as the dragon thrums, preening, and sends a burst of rainbow through Charles’ head.  “Don’t encourage him.”

“It’s the truth, though.” Charles grins.  He looks past Erik, at the mountain they’ve landed on.  A large, yawning cave opens behind the dragon rider.  “Where are we?”

“Quite a ways away from the valley,” Erik admits, and then hesitates before adding, “it’s a place I’ve slowly been making, er, my own.”

“Erik,” Charles says, grin turning wicked, “did you just drag me off to your cave?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” Erik says flatly, but he allows Charles to untangle himself from their embrace, smiling slightly as the smaller man darts off towards the cavern.  He shoves his hands into his pockets and follows at a slower pace.  “Help us out, Mags.”

Magneto lumbers after them as they enter the cave, folding his wings neatly across his back.  Charles looks up in time to watch the dragon raise his head, opening his jaws wide, and letting out a bright jet of searing flames, lighting up the previously dark cavern.  Erik grabs a torch off the wall and holds it up, unafraid of the dragonfire, and Magneto ducks his head slightly to set the end aflame.  Then his jet of flames flickers out and he shuts his jaws again with a snap, clicking his teeth together, seemingly satisfied with himself.

Erik makes a circle of the cavern, which is tall and spacious but doesn’t extend very deeply into the mountainside, lighting up several other torches along the walls.  Charles looks around as the light from the torches reveals the cavern more clearly.  There’s a small stack of what he assumes are supplies, neatly organized and pushed up against one wall.  Magneto’s spare saddle is also present, laid out carefully and freshly oiled, gleaming in the firelight.  A large trunk, lid closed, sits beside a bed and Charles crosses over to sit on its edge, looking up at the tall ceiling.

“It’s very simple,” Erik cautions, watching Charles’ face, “but it’s nice to have a place away from everything else to come to.”

Charles smiles.  “I think it’s wonderful.  How did you even get this bed all the way up here?”

Erik moves forward slowly, all liquid grace, and Charles feels like he’s being stalked by a large cat.  Or possibly a dragon.  “Mags had to carry it piece by piece.  Then I put it together here.”

Charles swallows, shifting a little where he sits.  Magneto has turned himself around, settling in the mouth of the cave facing outwards, serving as both a door and a sentinel.  And Erik is moving closer and closer, gaze locked with Charles’ and it’s been _five months_ since Charles has seen him, or touched him, or been touched by him—

“This still isn’t what I wanted to show you,” Erik murmurs when he’s standing over Charles, bent so that his lips ghost across Charles’ as he speaks, “but first—god, Charles, I _missed_ you—”

Charles reaches up to pull Erik down, his breath hitching when Erik attacks his mouth while at the same time his hands grip his hips, scooting Charles back further onto the bed and bearing him down, continuing to kiss Charles even as he crawls up on top of him, covering his body with his own.  Charles nearly sobs as Erik’s familiar weight settles over him after so long, arching up against him and moaning into Erik’s mouth as the dragon rider slips a hand between them to palm at his crotch, rubbing at him with just the right amount of pressure.

“Off,” Charles mumbles when Erik sits up for a moment and the dragon rider obeys, pulling his tunic up and over his head as Charles’ hands go for his belt, “I want—I need—”

“—you,” Erik finishes for him, and Charles nearly screams when the dragon rider ducks down to mouth at his cock through his breeches, breath moist and hot.  “Always you.”

Charles spreads his legs with another moan, hips jerking weakly as he goes utterly boneless, lost to the sensation of Erik’s mouth on his cock, however indirectly.  Erik straightens again, eyes burning, and pulls Charles’ tunic off as well, which prompts Charles into remembering how to move again.  Together they wriggle out of the rest of their clothing, tossing the offending articles aside, and then finally, _finally_ press together, flesh-to-flesh.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” Erik murmurs in between placing open-mouthed kisses across Charles’ chest, “I kept asking for leave—”

Charles’ breath catches again, stuttering in his chest as he pants, squirming beneath Erik as each kiss sends shockwaves of pleasure through his body.  Erik stops talking in favor of paying closer attention to one of Charles’ nipples, lapping at it first before sucking it into his mouth entirely with a wet slurp, making Charles cry out, arching up again and his cock, already hard and heavy, gives a twitch, smearing precum onto Erik’s leg.

Erik licks his way over to Charles’ other nipple, and Charles whimpers as the dragon rider slowly reduces him to a quivering, shaking mess with his mouth alone.  He can feel Erik’s cock, rock hard and ready, pressed against his stomach, so he reaches down between them and wraps his fingers around the head, swiping his thumb across the slit.  Erik suddenly throws back his head with a groan, thrusting against Charles nearly helplessly as Charles strokes him, rubbing their bodies together; their sweat-slicked skin slides together with burning friction.

Charles gasps when Erik gets a hand under him, flipping him over onto his stomach and splaying one hand possessively across his back, pressing down hard enough to keep Charles from sitting up.  Charles ruts against the bedspread, digging his fingers into the cloth, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

“On your knees,” Erik commands, his voice rough and hoarse, and Charles feels him slip an arm beneath his hips before he’s pulled up onto his knees even while Erik still presses his upper body down.  It leaves Charles in a bent position, and his hips jerk a little even as the dragon rider gently pulls one of his legs out further, spreading him wide.

“ _A-ah_ ,” Charles gasps out when Erik pushes one slick finger into him, jerking in the dragon rider’s grip and his eyes opening wide.  He rocks back as much as he can, craving more.  He nearly sobs when Erik adds a second finger, scissoring them back and forth until Charles feels a burning stretch that hurts at first but then quickly starts to feel impossibly good, leaving him strung out like a mess.   “ _E-Erik_ , Erik, I—”

“Charles,” Erik soothes him, dragging his free hand down Charles’ back and scratching lightly with his nails, making the smaller man shiver.  He pumps his fingers in and out of Charles’ hole, adding a third and rubbing at his inner walls until Charles thinks he might go mad, gasping and panting wetly into the bedspread as he writhes against the dragon rider’s fingers.

He lifts his head slightly when he feels Erik’s fingers slide out of him.  Erik’s other hand leaves his back and Charles could sit up all the way if he wanted to but he remains where he is, legs still spread tautly apart, gulping in air like a drowning man as he waits, suspended in anticipation, ass in the air.

Charles jumps a little when Erik’s hands both suddenly return, gripping him by the hips and pulling him slowly backwards.  They moan together as Erik pulls Charles back onto his slicked cock inch by inch, Charles reduced to incoherent babbling as Erik fills him, pushing in so deeply Charles swears that Erik will eventually split him in half.  Fully in, the dragon rider drapes himself over Charles’ smaller, more compact body, forcing Charles to take his weight as he slips his arms over Charles’ shoulders, resting his elbows on the bedspread.

“God, Charles,” Erik manages to get out hazily, panting in Charles’ ear, “you’re so tight—”

“I waited for you,” Charles answers, shuddering when the dragon rider starts sucking on his neck, “for five months, I waited—”

He breaks off with a choked gasp when Erik starts to move, rolling his hips down and thrusting into Charles so abruptly that Charles sees stars, limbs quivering.  It takes him a moment to gather himself enough to begin moving against Erik, setting up a rhythm that has them both sliding against each other, the bed creaking beneath them underneath the sounds of their gasps and sighs.  Charles’ cock rubs against the bedspread, leaving a wet stain as he thrusts forward for friction, and back against Erik until he feels Erik’s cock hit his prostate, eliciting a loud cry as his entire body tenses in pleasure, juddering to a halt, unable to breathe for a moment because of pure sensation.

Erik starts to move faster, hitting that same spot again and again within Charles, and there is a white-hot heat coiling in Charles’ stomach, building up higher and higher as Erik thrusts into him, gasping out his name like a mantra.  They’ve lost their rhythm somewhat but that doesn’t seem to matter as they move frantically, getting closer and closer to release and Charles feels that he is burning like dragonfire—

Erik slams into him and Charles comes with a scream, shooting off white and sticky all across the bedspread below him, splattering his own stomach in the process.  Erik continues to thrust, growing more and more erratic as he crushes Charles down onto the bed and into his own semen, Charles’ limbs no longer possessing enough strength to hold himself up.  Charles moans under the combined sensation of orgasm aftershock and the slick feeling of his chest and stomach sliding across the bedspread in his own come.

The dragon rider comes with a cry, collapsing completely on top of Charles and burying himself in deeply.  Charles squirms slightly as Erik fills him to the brim with ropy, sticky semen that starts to leak out across the backs of his legs.  They lie still together for a few moments, panting, and Charles secretly relishes in Erik’s weight pressing him down against the bed, and Erik’s cock still buried inside him even as it grows flaccid.

Erik presses a kiss to the back of his neck and Charles shivers.  “Nngh,” he whimpers as the dragon rider picks himself up and carefully pulls out of him, his over-sensitized flesh protesting at the slow, wet drag.  Charles feels more semen leak out of his hole at the movement and he flushes, hiding his face for a moment.

Erik pulls him up gently, chuckling softly when Charles slumps against his chest, and gives him a soft kiss, slow and gentle.  Held warm and safe in Erik’s arms, utterly spent and sated, Charles suddenly feels a desperate yearning, clutching onto the dragon rider tightly.

“How long are you on leave this time?” he asks again, looking up at Erik and trying to glean the answer from within the depths of Erik’s eyes.  He won’t be able to bear it if Erik’s leave is short and fleeting—he _needs_ Erik, desperately so, and he isn’t sure if he can go on waiting and waiting and waiting during every shift of duty that the dragon rider has.

Erik strokes his face gently, sensing Charles’ desperation.  “It won’t matter,” he repeats, carefully untangling himself from the smaller man’s grasp, “let me show you why.”

Charles watches him uncertainly, unsure what he means.  Erik can’t quit being a dragon rider; as long as he and Magneto can still fly, they are as bound to their duty as they are to each other.  The dragon rider goes over to the large chest that sits near the bed, spinning out a combination on the lock and popping the lid open before reaching down inside with both hands.

Charles’ eyes widen when Erik straightens.  “Is that a…?” he asks weakly.

Erik is smiling, small but real.  He comes back over to the bed, carrying his burden carefully.  “A dragon’s egg.  _Your_ dragon’s egg.”

“Mine?” Charles breathes, hardly daring to believe it.  The egg is flawlessly smooth, about the size of a watermelon, and its surface glitters brightly in the light from the torches.  There’s no denying what it is, but _his_?

Erik climbs carefully back onto the bed, sitting in front of Charles.  The egg must be heavy, but he holds it out to him, still wearing his soft smile.  “Yours.  If you choose to accept it.”

Charles reaches for the egg, holding it reverently.  This could be everything he’s ever dreamed of; if he becomes a fully-fledged dragon rider like Erik, he’ll never have to leave Erik’s side again.  “Oh,” he says in surprise, “it’s so _warm_.”

Erik’s eyebrows raise, and he glances over at Magneto’s back.  “It’s warm?”

“Really warm,” Charles affirms, cradling the egg close.  He’s suddenly nervous, afraid to get his hopes up.  “Erik—I—I want this so badly, but what if the hatchling doesn’t choose _me_?”

“Mags picked it out,” Erik answers slowly, still watching his own dragon, “he wanted you specifically to have it.”

“Is that allowed?” Charles wonders.

“Normally candidates are selected by the council,” Erik answers, turning back to look at Charles again, “but if a dragon picks someone specifically, we all must listen.  If Magneto wants you to have this egg, no one will contest—”

Magneto lets out a low rumble, making the cave walls vibrate.  A burst of colors dances across Charles’ mind so bright and vividly that for a moment he can’t see anything else, lost in the dragon’s familiar yet alien speech.  He wonders what Magneto’s true voice sounds like, the one Erik must hear beyond the beautiful colors.

When the colors fade Charles’ normal vision returns, and he finds that Erik is grinning at him, so bright that now that colors he’s seen seem dull in comparison.

Charles can’t help it, he smiles back.  “What’d he say?”

“When I touched the egg it was ice cold,” Erik answers, his grin evident even in his voice, “and he says that if it’s warm for you, that hatchling has already chosen you.”  He grips Charles’ shoulders gently, giving him a small squeeze.  “Charles, you’re going to be a rider.”

Charles looks down at the egg in his lap, thrilled and humbled all at once.  A dragon rider.  Just like Erik and Magneto, he and his hatchling will share an unbreakable bond.  He will have to leave his valley home, but he’ll be able to follow Erik, at long last, into the sky.

Charles looks back up, his brightest smile coming easily as he leans up to kiss Erik, still cradling his egg as Magneto thrums loudly, tail swishing back and forth in contentment.  _Hello, little one_ , he thinks even though there’s no way for the hatchling to hear him, at least not yet, _welcome to the family._


End file.
